But creating and being and finding your way gets complicated. And hindsight is always so frustratingly clear.

So I laid it all down for a bit, and let it fall away.

And then I waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

It takes courage to start again, to find yourself, to risk it, to put it out there, to make mistakes, to be misunderstood, to be seen, judged and decided about. And for heaven’s sake, I’m not just talking about a silly blog. Why bother? Why should I? What if I don’t?

I heard Brene Brown in person recently say: there is something deeply unholy about not recognizing our worthiness but something really sacred about being honest about it.

Fact is, I needed a few others along the way to nudge and notice, and let me voice every hesitation and still say to my face: do it anyway.

And I just needed to plain get sick of being afraid.

So a few thank you shout-outs, if you don’t mind, for the records.

Thank you Ashley, for being such a straight shooter. And for the gift of your artistic expression, taking all my random thoughts on making. I threw them at you many months ago, and you made this?

And after a gazilion emails back and forth, you came up with the design for the new blog, the fabric, the blessed fringe. It feels like me. Thank you! I’m so glad our paths of stepping out into new things crossed when they did. If I had lots of money I would hire you as a personal coach and decision maker in my life, have I mentioned that to you? Please consider adding that to your artistic offerings. Because you should really think about it. You could market to other fellow hem-hawers like me, and in your most loving of ways, kick them in the pants. Then create art that inspires their future. Ok? Good. Great.

We simply can’t learn to be more vulnerable and courageous on our own.

Thank you to those of you who’ve given me your words.

and symbols to remember.

Thanks for the books,

and the time spent doodling on my behalf.

And you there, for buying your chai tea lattes on more than a few occasions, listening through hot tears and texts from my kids, encouraging me to get up out of the ditch of trying to figure it out and just keep moving ahead.

You all know who you are.

So here I am.

And there you are.

Making it.

A promise.

~H

Often the result of daring greatly isn’t a victory march as it is a quiet sense of freedom mixed with a little battle fatigue. –all quotes from Brene Brown, Daring Greatly

I mean, c’mon!! You are in the ring, right!? Really doing it. Being present to the both-and of your life in such an admirable and …dare I say…vulnerable way. Writing, creating, cooking, parenting, loving – all in ways that feel authentic and you.

It is a gift to share in it with you – thanks for letting us. You are making something really incredible.

Okay. So, I know I was up at my parents place and ending a job somewhere in the midst of this post’s publish date, but i missed this! And wow, wow, wow. Upon reading it now, I’m in immediate tears, 1. because it’s so beautifully written, and 2. because it’s so deeply fun to tell a friend that she’s clearly being/becoming the person she truly is. So amazingly creative and expressive, deep and true, confident and inspiring. And so so so generous with all of it. Almost one year later… you’ve made so much and blessed so many. So beautifully. And it’s changing all of us to witness it.